Cannoli and Seven
by Entwife Incognito
Summary: This is a rough write, needing to post today before 6x20 'Black Hearts' tonight. A challenge from two other writers, it 'fixes' the porch scene again, but uses the cannoli in a different way this time. The seven? I'll explain that in the author's note. 1-shot, AU, PWP. Warning! Adult sexual situations. If that displeases, don't read! Disclaimer: I own nothing about The Mentalist.


_**A/N Special request from Idan, to celebrate our Renewal Day 2014, May 10**__**th**__**! Pellegrina requested it have seven climaxes, one for each season of The Mentalist. Jisbon will do things like this to us. :D**_

Jane! That bastard! He wanted to be happy! And, with her!

She shifted positions on Marcus's chest for the twentieth time, her elbow jabbing his ribs in a new place.

"Ow! Teresa. Honey? I know you're upset about Patrick. Do you want to talk about your feelings and we'll see if we can sort it out?

Inexplicably, to Pike, Lisbon frowned. She seemed really steamed! What did he do?

Talking about feelings was the last thing Teresa wanted to do. Needing him to help her sort them out? How? To his benefit, no doubt. Really, he controlled her with niceness and approval, understanding everything. Pablum. And her feelings about Patrick? And Patrick's almost certain feelings for her? That was none of Marcus's business! What she and Jane felt for each other was private, between them! That she wanted to know Patrick's feelings for sure was irrelevant to her "boyfriend's" probing.

Suddenly, she needed Marcus out of there. She needed Patrick. Now! Teresa didn't care what that looked like to any fucking body. It was almost too late already.

For the first time since they'd started dating, she saw what Marcus looked like when he was displeased. He couldn't quite make it to pissed, much less furious. But she didn't care. She had things to take care of with the most important person in her life. And that wasn't Marcus. He didn't look back when he shut the door behind himself.

What to do? Call Patrick to come back over, for sure. But then what? Greet him naked? Sexy underwear? No. In his beaten down state, she'd better just make him at ease and want to talk to her. Maybe he wasn't too far gone. Maybe he had just given up on her.

He picked up on the second ring. "Lisbon,"

"Yes. Are you busy right now?"

There was a brief pause. He was probably trying to figure out what this was about before she even told him. "Don't think about it. Just tell me. Are you busy?"

"No. I can't sleep. The bed feels lumpy and the couch nothing I can snuggle into."

"Will you come back over?"

"Wh—It's midnight. You want my company? What happened to M-, to Pike?"

"I sent him home."

"Oh. Are you sad? Did you get in a fight or something?" Did she really expect him to go comfort her over that? Was she totally blind to him?

"This isn't about him. Do you want to come back over?"

"Y—yes. Of course I do. I like being with you anytime, uh . . . anytime you'll have me, Teresa."

"I'll leave the door open."

"That's not safe."

"Okay. Then, pick the lock."

Patrick snickered. "Okay. Be right over as soon as I clean up a bit." It felt good for her to tease him. He hadn't showered in a couple days, so he took a quick one, put on fresh underwear and a clean shirt. Brushed his teeth and ruffled his wet hair. It would take care of itself. He didn't want to put on his dirty socks, so he fished out an old pair of flip-flops and wore them. Looked okay with old jeans and a polo shirt. He wanted his appearance to be a good sign to Teresa.

She was just pulling some stretchy pants on when she heard fiddling and tampering at the front door knob. God! He had taken her literally.

Barefoot, damp hair curling where it hung down her shoulders. Teresa came to the living room just as Patrick's smiling face poked through the slightly opened door.

"Decent?"

She thought of the lingerie she wore. Rose pink, with shadowy mauve lace edging. The panties cut up the cheeks and barely covered the plump lips in front. The bra held her full breasts as an offering. "Parts of me are," she teased.

Of course, Patrick wondered what parts weren't. He was most curious about those. Something in her manner, the way her casual lightweight clothing draped her body, the panty creases that traveled the middle of her fanny cheeks, the decided uplift to her breasts, the soft hills and mysterious valley of her cleavage put everything male in him on alert. He had been deprived of interesting female company for a long time and several important places were decidedly taut.

Why had she called him to her in the middle of the night? Marcus couldn't get it up tonight? That would make his Teresa a harsh mistress, indeed. He envied Pike his knowledge of her sexual nature, when he could only guess. His uncharitable thoughts did not disturb him. In fact, he took much pleasure in the jealous triumph they stirred.

She poured wine into his glass, bending directly toward him on the couch. He caught purplish lace edging on pink. Stifling a little huff at the soft mounds of exposed flesh, undulating and jiggling with her movements, he shifted his hips and picked up his wine. She was giving him an opportunity, inviting him.

"Where's Pike?" Safety first.

"I told you. He's gone."

"Why did you call me here?

Setting her glass next to his, she scooted closer, not quite touching him. "The way you were on the porch tonight . . . "

He immediately hung his head and looked away, stabbed by the vision of Pike opening her door, dressed for bed.

"You weren't being honest with me. I wanted to find out why."

"I was honest. I want you to be happy."

Teresa put a hand gently on his knee, gave it a soft pat.

His head came up slowly to look at her.

"I know you want me to be happy. But still. You weren't honest with me. I want the truth."

His eyes narrowed and he felt something wobbly start in his brain, looking into her round knowing eyes, dark and bottomless, the lights in them like fireflies in the evening. He was putty. "What do you want to know? I'll tell you anything."

"The porch."

"I came to talk to you, Teresa. Continue our happy dinner with some dessert. Set some things straight. But when Pike opened the door . . . "

"I know that must have hurt you."

"No! I . . . "

Her eyes had narrowed and the fireflies went away. It seemed she was withdrawing from him. She wanted the absolute truth. He couldn't hide from her now. He didn't even want to. She was giving him a chance and it probably wouldn't come again.

"Yes. Yes, it did hurt me to see him answer your door. I felt like a real chump."

"You're not. I know you're not."

"He's a man. He thought so. That's how we think. Any man with balls who loves a woman."

"But you backed away. Because you wanted me to be happy? With him?" Oh yes, she'd heard him use the word 'love.' It warmed her, gave her confidence to wait for his answer.

Her comforting voice and movements made him want to tell her the truth. "No. God, no. But if you've chosen him and he makes you happy, I don't want to be in the way. I know you couldn't be happy with me."

"Then what you really want is for me to be happy, with you? Not someone else."

"I want so many conflicting things, Teresa."

"What's at the top of your list?"

"You. Same as always."

"Just say it, Patrick. I want to hear it. I know you want to say it. Everything that needs to will fall into place. I'm sure of it."

"I love you. Not just as a friend, but if that's all I could have . . . but not all the way across the country, Teresa. You'd be gone from me. I don't know how I could survive the loss. So many things I wouldn't be able to share with you. Simple things. Big things. I'd lose you. I don't even have places to feel that, it's so pervasive. It makes my whole body fuzzy at the edges like I'm not even there."

She nodded. "You haven't been. Did you know that I love you? And not just as a friend?"

"No. I thought you loved him."

"No, you didn't. He's . . . very different from you. I thought you didn't love me . . . as a woman. I'm trying to move on."

"But I don't want to share you. I want everything. Forever. If you love me, too . . . don't you want just me?"

She leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips. When he gasped it was to lean in and pull her lips tighter to his., but she pulled away, flushed and breathing hard before they could go further. "I'm glad we told each other."

Smiling, she brushed the unruly curls from his forehead and felt a rush of pleasure when he leaned affectionately into her hand when she caressed his cheek. She decided then that they would make love tonight. Her body thrilled, but she wanted to take time with him. They were both pretty battered by the confusion of long-unspoken love. "Can we take a little break for dessert? I want to eat the cannoli while it's fresh. Then we can talk some more if we're not too worn out."

"Yes. I'm hungry, but . . . " He put his hands under her knees, scooping her closer and pressed his hand on her back until her head curled onto his shoulder. He could easily wrap his arms around her strong back. Her breasts pressed his chest and they both savored the intimacy. The embrace lasted only a few moments and he kissed the pulse on her neck before releasing her.

She walked to the kitchen, her fingers softly caressing the place where his lips had been.

There was a bit of rummaging and rustling in the kitchen and Teresa returned with the bottle of wine and the restaurant bag in one hand and two glasses in the other. She handed him the wine and he started filling their glasses when she set them down. "It was a nice dinner together, wasn't it?"

Patrick stopped pouring long enough to take her free hand and tenderly kiss the dainty knuckles. His wide lips could have kissed them all at once if he'd wanted, but he savored each one instead. "Yes. An oasis in the middle of such difficult times."

Smiling, she turned the tables and took the hand that had held hers, kissing the top with soft smacking noises. His eyes worshipped her in wonder until she released him.

She opened the bag and looked in, her eyes opening wide for just a second before relaxing again. When she looked at him, they were bright and merry, and she winked. "Uh. Did you say you ordered this cannoli special-made?"

"I did."

Her face quirked in amusement and she looked into the bag again.

"Is there something wrong with them?"

"No. No." A strange raspy chuckle rose from her throat as she struggled for control. It sounded like a half-swallowed raspberry, squeezing through her clamped jaws. "Different flavors, too. Mmmmmm." She peeked over the bag at him, lifting her eyebrows like Groucho Marx. "I like these. Would you turn the main lights out? Let's finish our wine before we get into these."

A little mystified, Patrick was somehow titillated by her suppressed, well, hilarity. Teresa was blushing and almost giggling. They downed their wine in a hurry and Patrick moved closer, trying to peek into the sack as she pulled it away, an air of privilege in her upturned chin.

"You bought them for me."

If she was going to play the coquette, he would be delighted to be in the game. He leaned away, waiting.

Lifting her legs, she laid them over his and opened her arms for him lift her. The tilt of her body told him she wanted in his lap. His cock leapt in the confines of his jeans as she slid across and he immediately began tracing kisses down her neck and into the crease of her bosom that he'd ogled but a few minutes ago. Something lacy made an enticing susurrus through the short scruff of his chin.

She curled into him, a reflex of pleasure, everything alert and wanting more. Finally, she pushed gently away. He hadn't seen the cannoli yet and she had plans for it.

He kept an arm across her back as she reached in and drew out a cannoli, smiling wickedly. She held it up and rotated it so he could see the ends. The white cream swelled out of the crispy tube at both openings, pulled to a point. They supposed it was vanilla. Holding the open bag to him, she waited as he took the other one, then let the bag fall to the floor.

Teresa started giggling. "It's uncircumcised." A rim of sugar gave it a slight swell, wrapping the head.

"What are you talking about?" He turned his pastry so she could see. "It's swollen and pink and ready for me!" A rim of sugar suggested the swell of labia.

"It's a cunt cannoli!" she yelled, laughing, covering her mouth for the word she'd used.

Jane imagined the scent of hot, damp earth coming from her, deeply aroused.

Making sure to catch his eye, she pointed her tongue and wiggled it on the tip of the cream, eventually lifting a tiny smear to taste, her tongue running her lips. "Mmmmmm."

Hand suspended in the air, holding his cannoli, he followed everything she did. Before long, his entire body felt like an erection, full and hot and mildly buzzing with desire.

Teresa poked her narrowed tongue deeper into the cream and wiggled it around, lifting a dollop this time and smearing it in her mouth to taste it everywhere. Then she licked the sugar from the rim of the tube, her tongue still coated with creamy white. She licked it a long time. The rim was bigger than one would think, especially trying to dissolve crystals of sugar stuck to it.

Jane had a profound urge to strip himself naked and offer her real flesh, when she stopped licking and looked at him.

"You're seducing me."

"You're not eating yours. I like to scoop the cream out with my tongue, like this." Then she covered the pastry tube with her lips to clean it out as deep as she could go, twisting it around her tongue to glean every trace of cream.

"What you're doing to that cannoli is banned in some countries." He dropped his free hand to rest on her covered mons and pried his fingers between her legs, nudging the soft flesh until the folds of her sex parted, swallowing what had to be some very scanty panties as his fingers explored.

She gasped and pulled the cannoli from her mouth, lips smudged with cream and crumbles. He caught her lips, sucking them softly and wiping them with his warm tongue. His fingers kept working as he deepened the kiss.

With a sigh she laid back, relaxed on the support of his arm, letting her legs fall loose. Pulling her soft, thin pants low, his pulse pounded at the pretty shades of pink lace adorning her creamy belly. He rubbed them, feeling the soft textures of tight and open in the thin fabric. It had been a very long time since he'd had lace under his hand. Following it to her core, he found the swollen lips and buried soaking lace framing and guarding the one place his fingers wanted to be. He'd wait for later to breech. For now, he slipped his fingers under the lace at her belly and relished the sensation as they crept towards the wet he'd discovered as dampness on her outer clothing.

Lisbon held the cannoli against her chest, and moved her head restlessly on Patrick's shoulder, moaning. His fingers were wicked and agile, two holding her open and the third dancing on her clit. She felt the orgasm open strong, too strong and her arm slipped to his back gripping him tight, saying, "Jane! Jane. Oh, Jane," like a child taking the high drop on a roller coaster. Then she started to quake. He wanted to soothe the flesh he covered with a gentling hand, but removed it to quickly take the cannoli from her and set it on the coffee table. She was recovering her breath when he returned his hand to console her sensitized vulva over her clothes.

Pulling herself up for a sweet kiss, she rested her head against his neck. "You made me feel so good, Patrick."

He caressed her forehead with his cheek.

"Now eat your cannoli. I want to see."

She straightened her posture to sit comfortably. His had pink cream. Strawberry. He started on it much like she had, licking and digging his tongue in, loading it with cream and sharing it with Teresa, who sucked it from his tongue. The organ was so wide and strong that by the time he had tongued the filling out, the pastry tube was splitting and the sides softening to curl open, wide lips with a strawberry pink center.

Lisbon had started to squirm, imagining that he had her open like that, licking and delving. His mouth was busy, so she opened his jeans. Fresh soft white cotton underwear! The color was beautiful against his skin. He was already popping up, escaping the confines of his pants. She pulled the elastic, took hold of him and squeezed. He gave a low cry and stopped eating.

When she had him fully out, fat and hard with a head like a plum, Teresa flipped to her stomach and rested on his thigh as she began to lick him, then set her lips to him, kissing the veiny shaft and working it with her hand. She put her mouth over him, using her tongue to wet his skin and work her way down as far as she could go. But she decided she wanted the head most, so she put both hands on his silky shaft, rigid and hot, while she tongued and kissed the head. He groaned, tossed his cannoli gently to the table, lifted his hips to pull his clothes lower and held her hair back as her mouth fucked him and sucked him.

The silkiness of her hair curled his fingers, pleasurable distractions as Teresa mouthed him eagerly. He touched her shoulder, then almost pinched it as he started to tremble and jerk, trying to warn her of his approaching climax. She made a leave-me-alone sound and shirked her shoulder slightly away.

"I'm coming, Lisbon. Please. I'm coming."

She replied with a low hum of satisfaction and took him deeper into her mouth, sucking hard. He surrendered to the spasms that nearly curled him into a ball with their strength, bracing his hands against her shoulders. He had to squeeze something to keep from flying apart and wailing. But he wailed anyway, crying out in what sounded like pain but was the pleasure of ecstasy.

When he became too sensitive after orgasm, Teresa released him from her mouth, one last kiss to the head, to watch his face trail the last of the overwhelming pleasure. Her chin was dripping with his cream now and she smiled, an amazed look on her face. "That was spectacular! You went off like a rocket!"

Eyes still closed, he rubbed her back until she turned around, lolling until he looked at her. "What's that on your face?"

"You. I'm surprised it's not coming out of my nose, you shot so hard."

"Here. Let me clean you up." He used the side of his fingers like a squeegee, transferring the semen to his hand.

"Now what?"

"My hand's more used to it than your chin. It's loved you longer than I have."

"You nasty boy!"

"You're not doing a bad job at it yourself. I had no idea what you were capable of. I love an adventuress."

"I told you a long time ago, you don't know everything about me."

"But I love everything I do know. And tonight I have a lot more to love about you. I can't even imagine what I'll have tomorrow. And the days after that. And . . . "

"Forever?"

"That's the way it's felt to me for a long time."

"Me, too. We've known each other forever, already." They spent several seconds gazing into one another's eyes, tender smiles gracing their lips.

"We should get to bed before we total your couch. I'm not through with you yet. I won't be satisfied tonight until I make proper love with you."

She sighed. "That sounds nice."

"Don't count on it. But I think it will have a nice ending."

"Ooooohhhhh. You're giving me chills. Let's go."

When they entered her bedroom, Teresa carefully undressed him, enjoying every part as it was revealed, kissing and then backtracking for more of his broad chest and back, beautiful lithe arms and legs, even his feet and his luscious tush. That would be worth coming back to! By the time she finished, he was erect and trembling. He sat on the bed and held himself, squeezing to try and calm everything.

Finally, she took a few steps back and slipped off her knit shirt and pants, standing before him in the pink and purplish panties he had glimpsed and the matching bra that offered her breasts like a warm course in a lavish meal. When she started to unfasten her bra, he said, "No! I'll get you out of those."

The narrow crotch was still embedded between her lips and he started there, bringing her to stand between his knees at the edge of the bed. Her scent was concentrated, gathered and glistening on the lace, which had to be making her a little raw. He licked the lips, soft and full, lifting her scent and taste on his tongue. She gasped and braced on his shoulders. Carefully, he used his teeth to pull each lip free and nibbled the length of each one.

"Ah! What are you doing to me? It makes me want to come right away!" She pushed her puffy lips onto his until he licked where her clit would be, the proud nub caged by her panties.

"Come, then. I've never seen you look so lovely as when you come."

"Take them off. Please. I want them off. I want your mouth on my skin, not my panties."

Sliding his fingers under the lace, he carefully tugged it loose from her vulva and slipped the panties off her legs. A soft patch of dark hair decorated her plump mons and stopped at her naked labia. He drew his tongue across her closed sex, then pulled the lips and held them open while he slaked her clit and let the tip of his tongue delve deeper. Her scent was maddening, something that could only be wild Teresa in it that made him lap her until her legs danced, begging him to finish her. But he wouldn't.

Instead, he turned her around, taking her sex from behind, spreading and probing until he reached the soft dip of the entrance to her body. Teresa was bent now, holding her knees and trying to make it easy for him to reach her. He felt so warm, so tender, yet so hungry!

Jane buried most of his face in her, his nose close to the freshly washed bud of her ass. He could smell her soap along with the mild tang of her body there. It consumed him and made him want to consume her. He turned her back to face him. "Sit in my lap and I'll take off your bra."

She straddled him, catching her own scent now, strong with arousal. It mixed with his and she wanted him. When he reached behind to unfasten her bra, she bent forward to handle his cock, and scooted up, planning to mount him, but Patrick pulled her away. "Shhhhh. Don't touch me yet. I'm not finished with you."

"But I want you."

"I know. And I want you. It won't be long."

The tip of her breast popped easily into his mouth. He was sucking soft flesh and tonguing her hard nipples until every bit of the erectile tissue was at attention. Then he moved to the other breast, the nipple hard and standing from stimulation he'd already given. Her moaning had a sobbing quality to it as she writhed on his legs. Picking her up, he laid her on the edge of the bed, her hips hanging off a little as he got on his knees, his big hands holding her thighs apart so that he could taste and fondle everything, yet delay bringing her to orgasm. It would be delicate. She was ready.

Pushing back the hood of her clit, he attacked the little organ from the top, pushing it back and forth with the tip of his tongue. Teresa panted and strained her hips towards him.

"Inside. Inside me."

He held her clit, pinched between his thumb and finger, rolling it, and slipped a finger inside her, listening to her relieved sigh. Her clit popped in and out of its little hood as he drove it with his fingers, letting it go when she started to thrash and massaged it at the root instead. He slipped in two more fingers, pressing first the ceiling and the floor of the tight, wet vault. Then he leaned over and started on her breasts again, always stilling his hand or his mouth when he sensed she was near orgasm.

Finally lifting her onto the bed, he crawled over her, but she flipped him, guided his cock to her begging sex and watched his face as she drove him slowly in. He said her name, looking into her glistening eyes.

"You're as wonderful as I thought you'd be. Hard and warm, making my pussy come alive. It's grabbing you. It wants you just like I do. It's going to fall in love with you, too."

He nodded, savoring her intensity and how she honored the first moments of their joining. With a soft roll of her hips, she began to move gently, fully aroused, her muscles already wrapping him. When his hands reached towards her hips, she grabbed them and held them away, wanting the freedom to move on her own, and used them as leverage to push him even deeper.

Her tight nipples enticed him on breasts that rolled like waves with her movement. She held him out of reach. Riding atop and controlling their depth, speed and angle, she was going to take him over the edge in no time. He had other plans, if she would yield. He pulled free of her hands to hold her hips still and she pouted.

"I'm going to come too fast this way. You need to either go slow and easy or let me on top."

It was a pleasure to hear him ask instead of wrestle her for control or go limp in irritated defeat. "I'd love you on top of me. And I want it to last a long time, too."

She separated from him and watched him slap wetly against his stomach. Slick, red from the friction of being inside and filling her, he made her core thump, his ready state an expression of the carnal act. Primal and reminding her of the basics of their animal natures and the ultimate object of the drive for sex. The scent of their lovemaking already rose from their bodies and drifted in the room.

Rolling to her back and getting comfortable, she held up her arms and grabbed his neck for a long sighing kiss as he entered her slowly and felt his way to the bottom.

"God, you're so tight in there, and so slick. I want to make love with you until I die."

It was a very fine line, keeping her stimulated enough to be on the edge of orgasm, pulling back to keep her from it, yet not driving her to the release of frustrated crying, making her give up or refuse to continue. He held both their climaxes at bay, nipping a breast or nipple to give her a startle of pain, to refocus when her whining threatened to dissolve into a pout or she began to pant at feeling the edge of an orgasm finger her inside.

Eyes filled with tears, her hands held his ribs as she spoke in a tremulous whisper. "I love you so much."

He powered into her then, the strength of their orgasms a feedback loop that drove sensation into chaos when they broke together, shouting their release as her muscles caught him like a fist and he buried deep to empty himself where she held him. Their bodies would not turn loose quickly, but he finally rolled from her to rest on his back and let the sweat cool him. Lisbon did the same.

In a moment she got up. The only thing that moved was his head, to see her face and question why she left their bed.

"You are not a nice man. I didn't know you were such a tease. I wanted to bite you."

But her eyes were liquid with love and her totally kissed lips formed the bow of a soft smile. And that was all that mattered to a sated, limp Jane.

"I'll bring some more wine. It's your turn to suffer."

He pulled her gaze to his resting male flesh, curled innocently atop his pubic bone. "I don't think I'm ready."

"Oh, you will be."

He felt the sly hot look she gave him in his balls, but nothing stirred. Watching her naked ass as it rolled atop her hips when she left the room, he remembered his face buried in her and the scent of everything hidden.

Teresa returned with his cunt cannoli in her hand, two glasses of wine in the other. He took a glass from her and drank thirstily, eying the cannoli. She obviously had plans for that. He stirred a little at the mystery and at the inventive nature that drove it.

"Uh-huh." She had seen the movement. She drank her wine sitting cross-legged next to him. They talked and her fingers roved his body, noticing everything about his skin and what lay directly under it. She played with his small nipples, making him hard there and starting below. Setting the remains of her wine on the night table, she petted his semi-stiffie and stroked his balls tenderly. "I love how you're made."

"I love you, and I love how you make me feel, Teresa." She was bringing him back to life in so many ways, but what she held in her hand made him concentrate there.

He was very curious what she would do with the cannoli, and watched as she took it in hand. It was full of vanilla cream, scooped from the other cannoli and smashed in, no doubt by her fingers. It filled the end he had turned into pussy lips. She brought that end to the head of his cock and held him while she mashed it on. He was too big for it to travel far and the sight of what she was doing while licking her lips only swelled him more. The strawberry cream oozed from the other end and she bent to lick it off.

"Mmmmmm. That's good! The strawberry is strong." She kissed him and thrust in her tongue so that he could taste.

"I know. Mmmmm. I've tasted that one."

She dug her tongue into the strawberry end of the pastry tube now, not quite reaching his flesh. Gently cracking the tube a little more, she pushed it further down. He could feel the warmth of his dick soften the cream in the tube, making it easier to slide. This time, her tongue found him and she excitedly repositioned her body to consume him.

In a minute his hips jutted gently. He wanted more. Teresa caught his eye. Her mouth covering the end of the pastry tube, cream all over her lips. He moaned at the sight and she gave a sly smile, then bit it off! He gasped as she chewed, smacking her lips and licking them.

"Mmmmm."

"Funny. I thought you were following through with your wish to bite me. In a drastic way."

"I wanted you to think that." She attacked the cannoli shell again, breaking it into pieces that stuck to the cream. She picked them off like broken chips from a near-empty bowl, eating them as fast as she could. He was covered in swirls of pink and white cream. She sat up. "Now, you."

He smiled at her. "I'm flattered. But I'm not that agile."

She giggled. "No! You're slick with cream. I want to see you finish yourself off."

His flesh jumped as his spine curled in pleasure. Masturbate while she watched? What was it about that vision that nearly made him come just to think it?

Putting tentative fingers on his now rigid, expectant cock, she traced the tips through the cream, like a shy finger-painter. "Come on," she said softly. "Put your hand down here and show me. I'll show you sometime."

He really didn't need the bargaining but he was glad to hear the promise. He held himself between outstretched thumb and fingers and stroked slowly up and down, remembering how she had ridden on top of him. Now here she was, her open core hidden by her crossed legs. Just knowing it was there excited him and he moved a little faster.

Uncrossing her legs, Teresa bent her knees, feet wide apart on the bed so he could see her.

"Ohhhh, that's beautiful." Closing his hand to a fist, he pumped, remembering what it felt like to be inside her. He looked up at her face, watching his hand.

She saw the cream squeezing into lines between his fingers and form a thick border at the base of his cock and just under the head, mixing to a uniform color now. Her lips parted and the speed and vigor of his strokes increased as he laid his thumb to ride on the head. Then he curled a little to hold his balls and thumb the front lightly. She was so tempted to touch him, take care of his balls for him, but she wanted to see everything. Her own core was hot and juicy again, tightening in want.

Breathing hard through his open mouth, Patrick turned on his side, whipping his lengthened cock as his hand slid easily, tightly closed on the melted cream. He stopped to lash the head with his thumb several times, then pulled himself to point at her sex. She leaned back and opened her legs wider to expose the pink of her core. Then he huffed and grunted, pumping himself furiously but concentrating on the top and the head. She watched as excited red flesh flashed in and out at the top of his fist. When he came, he scooted towards her and shot the stream between her legs, holding himself steady until he had no more and collapsed on a pillow.

"Oh, thank you!" She stretched out against him and kissed his ribs, on by one. Two of them were ticklish. "I love how you're made, Patrick. I love what you do."

Not speaking, he thanked her by cupping her head and stroking her hair. They were both covered with cream now, and tired as he was, he wanted a shower. Slapping her fanny, he got up and lifted over Teresa to stand on the floor. "How about let's go for a wash. I promise to get you extra clean." He winked when she looked at him.

Showering was another marvel. He knelt, watching her face as he sudsed deep between her legs and up the crack of her enticing bottom. He crooked a slick little finger into the opening back there. When she smiled at him, he used his other hand in front, sinking fingers deep inside her, fucking her as his thumb worked her clit. She was shaking and about to come. He couldn't really work her well with his little finger so he changed to a soapy index finger instead, fucking her halfway and rimming the relaxing flesh until she came, holding his shoulders to balance. Then, she sank to the tiled floor and they sat together as water cascaded over them until she could stand again.

They talked as they toweled off. Patrick was curious about Pike. He had no fear that Teresa would return to him, much less his bed. "What happened?"

"He doesn't know me. He doesn't understand me. He doesn't touch me like you did tonight. Sex is an act to him, not an expression of love. He doesn't even pretend to love me, just enjoys my company. You love me, fully and helplessly."

"I adore you."

When they finally got into bed, they slept.

Patrick awoke with Teresa spooned at his back. He turned, placing delicate kisses on her face. That she would enjoy sex as a morning wake up was doubtful. Her mood before at least two cups of coffee was something of a legend wherever she worked. But maybe she was different about sex.

Not much. But she didn't try to hurt him, just groaned and snuffled and went still again. His hands on her awoke memories of the night and she smiled at him. "All right. But I'm not doing any of the work."

"Mmmmmm. Completely at my mercy then. I like it."

Her skin was morning pale and the almost liquid orbs of her breasts fascinated him. Sucking a nipple in, he spent time getting to know everything about them, massaging and tasting until she sighed. Straddling her ribs, he bent to kiss her chafed, swollen lips, deep rose in the morning light. Then he sat up and piled those wonderful tits onto his hard on, her flesh swallowing him.

Resting her hands on his thighs, she moaned and sighed, letting him do the work as she'd told him. His balls tickled a little as he moved. Controlling his movements to keep her comfortable, he sped up, lifting just a little to keep his weight off her. The sight of her beautiful flesh mounded around his plunging cock brought him to release and he pulsed semen onto her collarbone, his chest a bellows, siphoning air.

In a minute, she patted his legs and pushed a little for him to get off her. Stopping in the bathroom, she cleaned up and went to make coffee. "Are you ready for breakfast?"

Unhurried since it was Saturday, Patrick got up when he smelled coffee and bacon. He looked happily forward to the sweet simple domesticity of helping to prepare breakfast and then getting themselves ready for the day, the first real day of his new life.


End file.
